


Better Late Than Never

by msraven



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Not Quite a Coffee Shop AU, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2472845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msraven/pseuds/msraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil still remembers a time when his biggest source of stress was debating on whether to ask out the cute barista at the coffee shop. Maybe an unexpected reunion will finally get him the date he's always wanted.</p><p>A short, fluffy AU written as a birthday gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Late Than Never

**Author's Note:**

  * For [orderlychaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orderlychaos/gifts).



> So very, very late, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
> 
> Happy Belated Birthday Chaos!
> 
> (Thank you, as always, to Kultiras for the quick beta.)

Phil isn't sure what makes him take the hour-long train trip out of the city to his old neighborhood. It's been nearly fifteen years since Phil graduated college and he's never been back until today. It has been an especially rough few months at work. Maybe he's longing for the simpler days when he wasn't embroiled in all the office politics between Fury and Pierce's factions. The merger may have looked great on paper and done wonders for SHIELD's bottom line, but dealing with all the former Hydra employees has proven much more difficult than either Phil or Fury had anticipated.

The train slows to a stop at the station and Phil pushes all thoughts of work out of his mind. He pulls off his tie, stuffing it in his pocket as he strolls through the town. It hasn't changed much. A few towns over from the college itself, it has managed to keep it's quaint, small-town feel over the years. Phil's shoulders relax, remembering happier times when his biggest source of stress was debating on whether he should ask out the cute barista at the coffee shop. 

Phil smiles wistfully at the memory as he walks toward where the coffee shop had once stood, wondering if it is still there or has been replaced by a Starbucks or some other chain. He'd never gotten a chance to ask the barista, Clint, out on a date while he lived here. By the time Phil had worked up his nerve a few weeks before graduation, he'd been told that Clint had moved away. He's thought a lot—and yes, fantasized—about Clint over the years and it makes his joy at seeing the same, unchanged coffee shop somewhat bittersweet. 

It takes Phil's eyes a moment to adjust after walking into the coffee shop, but what he finally sees makes him stop in tracks and blink in surprise. Clint is leaning against the counter talking to a customer, like every other day Phil has walked into the shop. He has the same easy smile and amazing arms on display and, for a moment, Phil thinks it's a hallucination. Then he notices that Clint's features have matured, the smoothness of youth replaced by chiseled features that Phil finds even more attractive than he had before.

Clint looks up, toward Phil, and then it's his turn to blink surprise before his eyes light up in recognition and his smile widens into something more genuine. "Phil? Is that you? Holy shit, it is you!"

"I… what… You remember me?" Phil stammers.

The other customer moves away politely as Clint comes around the counter, holding his hand out toward Phil. "Of course, I remember you! It's Clint."

"You don't need to… I remember you too, Clint."

"I can't believe it's you," Clint laughs as they shake hands. "Fuck it, c'mere!"

Clint tugs on their joined hands and Phil finds himself engulfed in an exuberant hug. Phil can't help laughing along as he hugs back. This is much more than he expected as he'd stepped off the train.

"Have a seat," Clint says and points Phil toward a set of chairs by the window. "I assume you still drink coffee since you ventured in here?"

"Yes, please."

It takes Clint a few minutes to make them each a coffee and bring them over. Phil takes a sip as Clint sits down next to him and nearly groans in appreciation.

"Dark chocolate mocha with a hint of Irish cream, right?"

"It's perfect, thank you. I haven't had one of these in years."

"You're kidding."

"No one could ever get the mix just right. I drink mostly regular coffee these days. Didn't realize how much I'd missed it until now." Clint smiles happily and Phil shakes his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you still remember how to make the coffee I like."

"You're hard to forget," Clint says softly, but sits back with a wide grin before Phil can fully process what he's said. "So what have you been up to? How long are you in town for? Family? Kids?"

"Just me. I actually took the train over from the city on a whim. I work for SHIELD—managing their Finance department."

"The security software guys? I have a friend who swears by you guys. I always knew you'd do good."

Phil thinks about all the years it's taken him to rise through the ranks and the months he's recently spent trying to position himself ahead of Garrett to be next in line for CFO, all of it suddenly seeming petty and inconsequential. "I do okay."

"I bet you do more than okay, but I get it if you don't want to talk about work."

"It's really not that interesting. I got a job with SHIELD straight out of school—we still recruit heavily from here because we believe in supporting the local area. Worked my way up, caught the eye of an up and coming director along the way. What about you? When did you move back? Last time I came in here, Old Man Berg said you'd moved away."

Clint laughs self deprecatingly. "Seduced by the glimmer and glamour of Hollywood."

"Seriously?" 

"Yeah. Faired better than most do, I think. Ended up doing stunt work for Stark Pictures."

"Wow. I didn't realize that was something you were interested in."

"I wasn't. Kind of fell into it. They were looking to film real archery trick shots and got a hold of my old coach. Next thing I know, Mr. B's driving me to the airport and I'm headed to Hollywood. They asked me to do a few other stunts and it turns out all the random sports Mr. B made me do to keep busy after school made me a natural. That and my willingness to jump off tall buildings."

Clint shrugs nonchalantly and Phil should probably ask him what movies he's been in, but Clint's former life isn't what he's most interested in. "What made you move back?"

"Mr. B got sick. He yelled at me for a week straight when I showed up, but I couldn't not come help. He was my last foster dad. He could have thrown my sorry ass to the curb when I aged out, but he didn't. I owed him everything." Clint's eyes cloud with sadness for a moment before he shakes it off with a smile. "Once we were back, I realized this was a much better place for us."

"We?"

"Yeah, Trev and I. My son." Before Phil can absorb the new information, Clint pulls out his phone and hands it to Phil. "That's Trev."

Phil isn't sure what he's expecting to see, but it's not a picture of Clint with his arm slung around a young man wearing a graduation cap and gown, their matching grins nearly glowing off the screen. Phil's mind whirls. If he remembers correctly, Clint is several years younger than Phil. For him to have a son this age, he'd had to have been born when Clint was barely out of high school himself. Long before Phil had met him. 

"He starts at Harvard in the fall," Clint says proudly. "With a partial scholarship. Thank God I'm still consulting with the studio or else I'd never be able to pay for it." He pauses, his voice tinged with amusement when he continues. "I can see you trying to do the math in your head—don't. I wasn't hiding a three year old under the espresso machine. Trev's adopted."

Phil looks back at the phone. "You look amazingly alike."

"That's because he's my nephew. One of the only good things my brother ever did was meet Chelsea and have Trev. She was in a fatal car accident when he was seven and I wasn't about to let another Barton grow up an orphan if I could help it. I gave Trev a few options—he's always been a smart kid—and he chose adoption."

Even now, years later, Phil can hear the awe and love in Clint's voice as he talks about Trev's decision. Unfortunately, Phil's phone chooses that most to chime in his pocket. He pulls it out of his pocket to double check the alert and fights down a sigh of frustration. 

"I didn't want to accidentally miss the last train back to the city," Phil explains apologetically. "There are no late trains in that direction except on the weekends."

They both stand while Phil berates himself for dawdling so long around town before venturing toward the coffee shop. It leaves Phil feeling like he's in college again, trying to convince himself that a guy as hot at Clint would be interested in going on a date with him. Luckily, Clint cuts through his indecision for him.

"Since we don't have time for me to lead into this smoothly, I'll just come out and ask. Would you maybe want to have dinner and see a movie with me this Saturday?"

"Yes," Phil says, cheeks flushing at his own eagerness. "I was about to ask the same thing. Dinner and a movie sounds great."

"I have tickets to a pre-screening of that new Bourne movie, if that sounds good to you. It's in the city on Saturday night."

"That sounds great. Here, let me…" Phil takes the initiative, opening the message function on Clint's phone and sending himself a text. He hands Clint his phone back after his dings with a received text, matching Clint's grin. "We can figure out details during the week. It was really nice seeing you again."

"Ditto."

Phil's almost feels like skipping as he makes his way back to the station, just in time to catch the last train back to the city. Clint texts him details about the movie the next day and he's filled with nervous anticipation at finally getting the date he's always wanted. While Phil has dated on and off over the years, he's never felt the same thrill like he's getting now. Saturday can't come soon enough and Phil works extra hours during the week to make sure there is no chance of work interrupting his date.

Clint knocks on Phil's door at exactly a quarter to six on Saturday, wearing jeans that make Phil's mouth water and a smile that takes his breath away. They walk and take the subway to dinner and the movie to save Clint the trouble of re-parking his car and it's by far the easiest and most enjoyable date Phil has in ages—probably ever. Clint gives Phil a sweet kiss goodbye on the sidewalk outside his building at the end of the night, making him wish that Clint didn't need to be back to open the shop early the next morning. Phil's answer is immediate and positive when Clint asks him to spend the following weekend at his house. 

They trade texts and a few phone calls during the week, helping to brighten Phil's days and make fighting the traffic to Clint's house on Friday night bearable. Some of Phil's nervousness returns as he pulls into the driveway, but then the door swings open before he's shut off the engine and any apprehension disappears in the face of Clint's equally eager smile. Phil scrambles out of the car and grabs his bag before jogging lightly to stop just in front of Clint.

"Hi," Clint greets breathily. 

"Hello."

Phil thinks there should be more awkwardness—possibly more time and talking—but nothing feels as natural as stepping into Clint's arms and allowing their lips to meet. He lets Clint lead him into the house and up to the bedroom, their bodies slotting together like they were meant to be, and soothing an ache inside Phil he hadn't known existed.

  
~^~  
  


"So Trev flies in on Friday."

"Oh," Phil responds, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice and hoping he'll have some measure of success since Clint can't actually see him over the phone. 

He tells himself that he has no right to be disappointed or begrudge Clint for spending time with his son. Phil and Clint have spent every weekend together since the first, most often at Clint's house because it's a lot nicer to spend their evenings sipping wine in the backyard and days together quietly in the shop than dealing with the hustle and bustle of the city. A few weekends apart aren't a hardship. Trev is only home for two weeks between his internship with Stark and before Clint flies out with him to Harvard.

"I was wondering if it's too late to ask if you can take Friday off work." 

Clint has been very understanding and accommodating of Phil's work schedule during the week. He seems satisfied with a few texts and phone calls during the weekdays, never asking for more of Phil's time than he can spare while embroiled with work issues. 

"I was just thinking that it probably makes more sense for me to take the train out there Thursday night or early Friday morning," Clint continues. "Then you could drive us all back from the airport since you'll need your car to drive back on Sunday."

It takes Phil a slow few seconds to work out Clint's meaning. "You still want me to spend the weekend out there?"

"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I…? Oh. Is this a thing? You don't have to meet Trev now if you don't want to. He'll be back again for Thanksgiving. Or Christmas. You don't have to meet him until you're—"

"I'd love to meet Trev this weekend," Phil interrupts quickly, pulling his calendar up on his laptop. "When does he land?"

"Really? Um… His plane gets in at 12:34."

"Okay. I have meetings until 11:00 on Friday, so it's probably better for you to come on the early train. I can meet you at my apartment when I'm done here before we drive out to the airport. Just make yourself at home."

"Sounds great. I should let you get back to work. I'll see you Friday."

"Friday. Bye, Clint."

"Bye."

Phil hangs up the phone with a smile as he begins the task of rearranging his calendar. He's so busy with the last minute shift to his schedule that it doesn't occur to him to worry until they're already at the airport waiting for Trev to walk out into the non-secure area. What if Clint's son hates him?

"Relax," Clint advises and reaches out to squeeze Phil's fingers. "Trust me. Trev's going to love you. Oh! There he is. Trev!"

Phil hangs back as Clint steps forward and gives his son a warm hug, unable to hold back a smile as Trev hugs back just as tightly. The two smile fondly at each other before Clint slings his arm around Trev's shoulders as he leads them over to Phil.

"Hi. I'm Phil," he says, extending his hand, which Trev shakes firmly. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise. I'm Trevor—Trev." 

"Your dad's told me a lot about you."

"Don't listen to him. I have no idea who let those piglets out of Old Man Perkins' farm and into the high school locker rooms."

Phil laughs and relaxes as Clint and Trev both grin. The rest of the weekend goes very well. Trev's personality is a lot like his father's and he's genuinely welcoming of Phil's intrusion into his homecoming. Trev's open nature 's open nature doesn't do much to lessen Phil's embarrassment when he wakes late on Sunday morning, stepping out of the master bedroom in a pair of Clint's sweats and an undershirt, to come face-to-face with Trev in the hallway.

"Morning," Trev smirks, shrugging on the hoodie he must have come up to his room to get. "Dad had me make a second pot of coffee."

Phil follows him downstairs to the kitchen and gratefully accepts a cup of coffee as Trev leans against the counter with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Care to share what's so amusing?" Phil finally asks.

"It's just… You're kind of exactly what I expected. I mean, dad has always had a type and from what he's told me, you were the basis of it, so I guess it makes sense."

"I'm the— what?"

"Don't tell me he hasn't confessed about the massive crush he had on you when you were in college?"

"Trevor Barnard Barton," Clint warns as he steps into the kitchen. "I don't need you telling embarrassing stories about me to Phil."

"Says the man who showed my prom date naked baby pictures of me. All's fair, dad."

Clint doesn't rise to the bait, giving Phil a kiss on the cheek on his way to the coffee maker. "Weren't you going to Jim's house?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be back for lunch." Trev looks over at Phil and he nods at the silent question.

"I'll still be here."

"Cool. See ya later."

"He's a great kid," Phil comments as the door closes behind Trev.

"Yeah," Clint says with pride before straightening from the counter. "I probably need another half hour with the footage Stark sent home with Trev, then we can go for a walk around the lake?"

"That should give me plenty of time to get cleaned up."

"Breakfast first. Overnight French toast is in the fridge."

"You spoil me," Phil smiles, giving Clint a quick kiss and then shooing him away. 

It's been thirty minutes by the time Phil finishes his breakfast, has a second cup of coffee, and gets showered. He goes searching for Clint in the basement and freezes at the doorway. Phil has seen the mini studio before, with its bank of large monitors and state-of-the-art equipment, but has never seen Clint at work. Phil can't help finding the intensity of his gaze as Clint stares at the screens more than a little hot.

"Just about done," Clint tells him without looking away from where the stunt is moving in slow motion across the monitors. Phil doesn't understand much about what Clint still does for Stark, only that he analyzes the stunt footage for faults, both visually to the average movie goer and to prevent accidents that put the performers at risk.

"Something wrong?"

"Well this Strucker guy Tony hired from Germany is definitely a little lax with his safety buffers, but no major red flags right now."

Clint takes off his glasses and places them on the desk—another new aspect of Clint that Phil finds incredibly hot. He realizes that the idea of going on a walk no longer holds the same appeal it had earlier. Phil insinuates himself between Clint and the desk before straddling him in the chair.

"How about we keep our physical activity indoors today?"

"Mmmm. I like how you think, Mr. Coulson."

  
~^~  
  


Despite both of the Barton men's insistence, Phil declines to drive back out the following weekend. He thinks it's important for them to spend time together before Trev moves away to college and ends up calling his own dad—something he hasn't done in ages. They make tentative plans for Phil to fly out during the holidays, leaving him wondering if it's too early in their relationship to try and convince both Clint and Trev to go with him.

Phil is wrapped up in meetings and can't send them off before their flight out to Boston, but he talks to both Clint and Trev the night before, sharing his own experiences of his first days of college that Trev seems to genuinely appreciate hearing. Clint agrees to spend a few nights with Phil after he gets back from dropping off Trev and Phil has to reflect on how much happier he is now versus a few months ago.

The next morning at work, all hell breaks loose.

Pierce brings forward a proposal to partner with Advanced Idea Mechanics, citing the need for the SHIELD to integrate security into the hardware itself. It's clear that Pierce has already negotiated most of the partnership already and the board retaliates by assigning Fury—and by association, Phil—the responsibility of vetting both AIM and the proposal. AIM is suspiciously enthusiastic about handing over their financial information and Phil suddenly finds himself buried in paperwork.

Phil barely acknowledges Clint's text letting him know that he's landed and is on his way to the apartment, attempting to convey as quickly as possible how swamped he is with work. Phil doesn't have time to regret his terse reply until he stumbles into the dark apartment well past midnight. The whole place smells wonderful, but Clint is nowhere to be found. A quick search yields dinner in the fridge, several more containers in the freezer, and a note telling Phil that Clint had driven back to town after receiving word that his new manager had to deal with a family emergency.

It's disappointing, but Phil is not hypocritical enough to fault Clint for needing to keep his business running. Phil crawls into bed and vows to call Clint in the morning when he's less likely to fall asleep mid-conversation. He's not expecting to be woken just after dawn by a phone call from Sitwell with an energetic download of what he'd seen at the on-site audit of AIM. Their suspicions ratchet up to new levels and Phil has to satisfy himself with a quick, apologetic text to Clint as he's rushing back into the office.

It sets an exhausting pattern over the next several weeks. AIM figures out how deep Fury is digging into their business and closes ranks, with Pierce's team being no help whatsoever. Phil barely has time to sleep—the board's deadline approaching steadily—let alone trade more than a few texts with Clint. He wants to ask Clint to come out to the city, but it seems selfish considering Phil will barely be home. Clint, for his part, is trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, sending a minimum number of texts spaced carefully apart, usually gentle reminders for Phil to eat and sleep. It's a discussion they'll need to have when there's time and Phil can only hope that Clint's patience holds out until then.

When Phil finally finds the loose thread that unravels all of AIM's questionable and barely legal practices, his first reaction is to share his elation with Clint. He grabs his phone, only to find a missed text from early the previous morning.

_Stark needs me in Germany. Take care. No one survive's on coffee alone._

There is nothing overt in the text, but Phil immediately feels the distance separating them and dread coils in the pit of his stomach. He worries that he's already pushed Clint away, fear and frustration causing him to grip his phone tightly until Sitwell demands his attention once again. This isn't something Phil can fix while Clint is an ocean away. All he can do is finish this business with AIM and free himself to focus on what's truly important.

Life, however, has a way of changing even the best intentioned plans. Phil's phone buzzes on his desk a few hours later and he glances at it, nearly ignoring the alert from an unknown number. 

_Hi. Dad said not to bug u. Thought u should know hes okay. Trev._

Phil picks up his phone with shaking fingers.

_What happened?_

_Accident not on news there? Explosion. German dudes an idiot._

A myriad of questions fly through Phil's head. What are the extent of Clint's injuries? Why didn't Clint contact Phil himself? Why did Trev think to tell Phil? When is Clint coming home?

Instead of asking anything, Phil settles for a simple, _Thank you for letting me know._

_Dad an idiot too? Hates hospitals. Call Nat._

Trev's next text contains a phone number that Phil calls without pausing to think about his welcome or calculating the time zones.

"Hello?" a woman's voice answers softly. 

"Hello. You don't know me, but Trev gave me your number. I'm looking for Clint. Clint Barton. My name is Phil Coulson and I… I'm his boyfriend."

There is a long pause on the line before the woman—Nat, Phil assumes—answers in a carefully even voice. "He's told me about you. This is Natasha."

"Oh," Phil winces. He should have made the connection. Natasha's is Clint's best friend who still works for Stark. This is not the first impression Phil was hoping to make. "Is Clint okay?"

"He's in surgery."

"Surgery?! He told Trev he was okay."

"Mostly okay. They were a little worried about internal bleeding, but the surgery is to fix his broken arm. The doctors plan to keep him here a few more days to make sure about the first."

Phil is already opening his web browser and putting in the necessary information before he thinks to ask, "Is he…? Would he want to see me?"

"There is hope for you yet," Natasha says in a much warmer voice that Phil takes as a positive response. He clicks on the final button and reaches into his desk for his passport. "Do you want me to tell him you're coming if he wakes up before you get here?"

"No. I'm not sure. Whatever you think is best."

"I'll text you the hospital address and room when I have it."

"Thank you."

Natasha just hums thoughtfully and ends the call. Phil gathers all the files on his desk, mentally going through the contents of his closet and spares a moment to be thankful that all of his non-work clothes are clean. He snags Jasper on the way and interrupts a meeting between Fury and Hill to drop everything on Fury's desk.

"This is everything I have. It's all you need aside from the final presentation, but Jasper can finish that. I'll be out of the office for a… for a while. I'll let you know when I think I'll be back."

"What the hell do you mean you'll be out?" Fury asks in shock. "What's going on Coulson? You can't leave now."

"Then fire me, I don't care. Clint's hurt. I have to go. Good luck finding a replacement."

"Wait a second, jackass. I'm not firing you. I'm just asking you to stop and think for a minute. Presenting this is going to cement your position with the board. Are you sure you're willing to give that up for someone you've only been seeing for a few months?"

"I don't need to stop and think to know this is the right thing to do. Maybe if I had earlier, I would have realized that I've been making the wrong decisions for weeks. I just hope that Clint is as forgiving as he is patient."

"Okay," Fury acquiesces. "We should be able to cover this after all the work you've put in. We'll talk when you get back."

"I won't sacrifice my life for work again."

"Yeah, I got that. I said we'll talk when you get back."

Phil nods and turns to leave, pausing at the door with Fury's parting comment.

"And Phil? Good luck. You'll need it."

  
~^~  
  


Phil watches as Clint's eyes flutter open and he turns his head to smile at Phil before he's fully awake.

"Phil."

"Hi Clint."

It's only after Phil takes the hand that Clint reaches toward him does Clint frown in confusion. He stares at the IV line for a second, blinking as some of the sedative haze lifts, and then looks back at Phil.

"What are you doing here?"

"You're in the hospital. Where else would I be?"

"But your office—"

"Won't implode if I'm not there. You're more important than work and I'm sorry it took your getting hurt for me to figure that out."

Clint startles a little and then smiles with a squeeze to Phil's hand. "It's okay. I'm glad you're here."

"It's far from okay, but we can talk about it when you're better. Trev's a little upset you didn't tell him about the surgery, by the way."

"Didn't want to worry him." Clint struggles to a sitting position and Phil moves quickly to help him adjust the angle of the bed. "I'm guessing it's Trev who let you know about the accident?"

"Yes and we'll have to talk about that later, too. He gave me Natasha's number and I came out here on the next flight out."

"You didn't have to."

"We'll have to agree to disagree about that," Phil says with a sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking Clint's hand again. "I know I've done a terrible job showing you this over the past few weeks, but I love you. You weren't the only one with a crush all those years ago and I'm not about to waste our second chance."

"I love you too, Phil. And I really do get it. You're not used to worrying about someone else when you work a lot."

"That doesn't mean it was fair to you or that I should ever do it again."

"Natasha said the same thing, the being fair to me part. It's not all your fault though. I should have said something earlier. I'm just not used to…" Clint shrugs. "You know…"

"Putting yourself first? Asking for things you want? Doing what makes you happy? Demanding attention?"

"Yeah, yeah. All of that."

Phil smiles, a little amazed that he hasn't managed to lose Clint after all. "How about this? You promise to tell me when I'm working too hard and I'll remind you to be selfish now and then."

"Deal," Clint grins back and Phil leans forward to seal their promise with a kiss.

  
~ Epilogue ~  
  


"Hey."

Phil looks up from his book and smiles up at Clint. He is still breathtakingly gorgeous even with his hair flattened from the knit cap he'd been wearing and his cheeks rosy with cold. Phil lifts up the corner of the blanket in invitation, which Clint accepts readily, slipping in next to Phil on the sofa and snuggling close.

"I was wondering how long they'd take to send you away."

"It's not my fault I'm a natural marksman."

Phil laughs. Both he and Trev had warned Phil's dad about Clint's prior prowess with a bow, but he'd been undeterred about taking Trev and Clint out to the edge of the Coulson property for target practice. The three of them had flown out to Illinois a few days before Christmas and weren't scheduled to be head back until the thirtieth. Phil's dad welcomed the two Bartons with open arms and they were already making tentative plans for him to visit while Trev was home over the summer.

"So Stark called while I was headed back to the house."

"Yeah? Did he finally stop yelling at the lawyers and insurance companies?" 

Stark had been livid when they'd protested his plan to pay for all of Clint's hospital bills. Clint had been the one who'd seen the trouble with the pyrotechnics and rushed everyone else away. He'd minimized the damage and had gotten injured for his trouble, so Stark rightfully insisted that Clint deserved to be treated like a full employee.

"I think Pepper's calmed him down for now. They both want me back on full contract though."

"Does that mean you have to move back to California?" Phil tenses at the thought, but Clint quickly shakes his head. 

"No. They know I'd never sign if that was a stipulation. I won't go that far from you or Trev. They're actually talking about setting up an East Coast studio. The question is where."

Phil pulls back so he can look at Clint. "Would you really give up the house and the coffee shop?"

"The shop, yes. It was something I meant to do after Trev was done with school. There's a retired professor who lives in town that promises not to turn it into a Starbucks. As for the house…"

"Plenty of people I know have houses outside of the city for the weekends. My apartment is big enough for all three of us when Trev visits, but I have a difficult time envisioning us spending holidays or vacation days there, especially if my dad flies out too."

"Yeah? So you really want to move in together?"

"Yes!" Phil answers enthusiastically, punctuating his response by pulling Clint in for a hug. "There's nothing I want more."

He keeps Clint close as they discuss the best way to merge their two households, but the details don't matter in the end. What matters is that they each have someone to come home to at the end of a long day, that Trev starts coming to Phil for advice in equal measure to Clint, and that they never let distance or silence separate them again. What they'll remember is the look on Clint's face the first time Phil's dad calls him "son", the relief Phil feels after Natasha gives him her tacit approval, and the love reflected in both their eyes when they exchange their vows... not the fifteen years it took to get them there.

~ _fin_ ~


End file.
